


Cheers

by RomeoandAntoinette



Category: Fire Emblem: The Sacred Stones
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Flirting, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 16:50:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15755832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RomeoandAntoinette/pseuds/RomeoandAntoinette
Summary: The wedding of Eirika and Seth brings Ephraim and L'Arachel back together in Renais following the war. However, some moments of misguided politeness and clinking glasses lead to L'Arachel staying in the palace overnight. In the meantime, Ephraim ponders his feelings for her. Fluff and comfort. Ephraim/L'Arachel.





	Cheers

This was bad.

It was so, so bad. 

Ephraim felt his head slip between his hands as the sounds of shuffling bedsheets and sluggish rambled swirled around him. Every sound was a bitter reminder of the events that had transpired early in the evening.

The worst part, in Ephraim’s opinion, was that the series of events leading up to the less-than-ideal situation had been mostly innocent. It had been a perfect storm of oversights and misguided attempts at camaraderie that led to Princess L’Arachel of Rausten laying fully-clothed and passed-out in his bed while he spent the evening cleaning broken glass in the parlor room.

It had started around a week ago when L’Arachel had first contacted Ephraim following restoration efforts within the kingdom of Renais.

L’Arachel had forwarded him a simple inquiry about what supplies the young man and his sister, Eirika, required for the restoration efforts. He’d responded honestly to her letter with what the kingdom needed, and as promised, the princess sent the requested supplies and extra for the kingdom’s citizens.

The incident reignited a fondness for the woman that he’d forgotten since the rush of returning home. Restoring the kingdom had taken such a toll on his mind that he’d forgotten about some of their wartime comrades. He was beyond grateful for the correspondence.

The next time he saw L’Arachel in the flesh was later that same week. Both of them were guests at Eirika and Seth’s wedding.

Upon arriving, she had greeted Ephraim’s sister with ecstatic hugs and kisses. In true L’Arachel fashion, she also came with Dozla bearing an almost embarrassing number of gifts for the newly betrothed couple and their kingdom. Grand amounts of supplies and foods were passed out to the people, and some more subtle gifts were given to the married couple, including two snow-white steeds and a rose-gold tea set that L’Arachel told her friend was best for, “romantic breakfast-in-bed situations.”

Considering L’Arachel’s squareness, the woman was probably being sincere in her recommendation. Eirika had laughed and Seth had blushed at the unintentional implication.

The interaction between the princess and prince had been otherwise minimal, aside from some teasing remarks about the color of Ephraim’s pale suit and some mischievous banter in-between the ceremony and the reception.

The woman was so busy making conversation and talking with all her old acquaintances that she barely touched any of the food or delicacies served at the ceremony.

From Ephraim’s perspective, it was quite impressive to watch. The thought even crossed his mind that he should ask her to offer him a few networking tips since he’d no doubt be assuming many more royal responsibilities from now on.

However, when Seth and Eirika noticeably slipped away from the ceremony to a more secluded area of the castle, he did notice a light blush on the blonde’s face. Not that he could blame her. The reason for his sister’s absence was obvious.

To avoid the awkwardness following the disappearance of the couple, he offered instead to show L’Arachel around the castle while the rest of the party began to wind down. Naturally, she obliged merrily, having grown bored with the other festivities.

The two sauntered through the modest halls arm-in-arm. Along the way, there was enough amicable chatter to create a sense of comfort between the two. Surprisingly, once the two were alone, both felt much more at ease. Ephraim didn’t need to worry about maintaining a princely persona and L’Arachel didn’t need to force any of her usual gusto. It was a startling, but pleasant, experience for both of them.

After Ephraim had personally witnessed L’Arachel work herself into a tizzy over a bare shoulder and she assailed him with names that stunned him into silence, the two were able to show their true colors more honestly than before.

The two eventually arrived in a brightly-lit room that Ephraim has been utilizing as a personal study.

As L’Arachel took a seat on a nearby ottoman to rest her feet from walking and dancing all evening, an idea popped into his head. The prince strode out of the room briefly only to return a couple moments later with a large crystal bottle.

“My word, that’s quite the impressive goblet!” L’Arachel said as Ephraim carried the bottle through the doorway with flamboyant suaveness. “Is that cognac? You have better taste than I thought.”

“It’s orange cognac,” he said with playful eye-roll. “Please don’t worry. It only looks expensive.”

“How does it taste then?” she asked, her blonde brow lofting in sadden suspicion. “I refuse to consume swill.”

“It’s leftover from Seth and Eirika’s wedding earlier,” Ephraim reminded her smartly. He gestured a gloved hand out the door and toward the dining hall where they’d celebrated hours prior. “So, it’s good enough for them.”

“Oh!” she said in realization, her brow furrowing in confusion as she stared at the rouge-tinted concoction. “I don’t remember drinking such a thing, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I trust their taste much more than yours, so I’m sure it’s worthy of consumption! In fact, I almost feel guilty drinking it.”

Ephraim resisted the urge to snort at her prideful statements. She was certainly a strange character, in his mind. Her haughtiness was one of the few constants that had remained following the war, and one of the ever fewer he was actually grateful for.

“You needn’t worry, it’s a special occasion,” he reminded her with a coy smile. He went to fetch a stout brandy snifter that would amplify the aroma and flavor of the beverage. He poured a small amount and offered it to her, then poured himself the same amount in a matching glass.

With a smile, he held the glass to the heavens.

“Cheers,” he said.

After a moment of mock musing, she smiled brightly and raised her glass overhead. “You’re right, dear prince. Cheers!”

They clinked their glasses.

* * *

 

Less than a couple minutes later, the glass fell from L’Arachel’s hand as she slumped over the edge of her seat.

The woman cupped her head in her gloved hand and used the other to keep herself from slipping off the ottoman. The alcohol muddied her grace fatally and caused her to slip anyway. Ephraim was as her side in an instant, abandoning his own glass on a nearby credenza.

“L’Arachel?” he asked, consumed with worry as he used his arms to keep her upright. He used his chest as leverage to reassure her head didn’t roll back.

She answered his questions as if in pain, grinding her teeth and slurring her words in exhaustion. “Goodness…that was quite a strong drink. I overestimated myself, it seems.”

“You only have a few sips,” Ephraim said, looking to the glass on the floor. It had been discarded and broken on the hardwood, and he could see that no drips of liquid had been discarded. He’d poured her the same amount he’d poured himself.

Then it dawned on him.

She hadn’t eaten anything at dinner. He’d witnessed her bob and weave between tables all night without touching any of the savories that had been served at dinner. Now that he thought about it, she’d probably spent the entire day traveling to Renais. It would have been unlikely that she would have eaten much at all.

The realization hit him like a brick across the cheek.

“L’Arachel, I’m so sorry!” the prince fumbled frantically. “Damnit, I wasn’t thinking.”

“S’okay,” L’Arachel responded with such informality that Ephraim was stunned to stillness as he tried to haul her upright. “I should have refused, but I didn’t want to. I wanted to spend time with you.”

He blinked slowly at her odd reply. Instead of inquiring as to what she meant, he shook the shyly mumbled words away like cobwebs.

“We didn’t have to get you drunk to do that,” he retorted. Although his tone was biting, his face was clearly a visage of worry. “You know what, now isn’t the time. We can discuss that later. How do you feel right now?”

“Dizzy,” she mumbled. Her blonde brow was furrowed in obvious discomfort. “Sleepy too. I have a headache.”

The prince slipped an arm beneath her long legs, covered only by the length of a sheer gown. He muttered a sincere apology at the intimate contact before lifting her up and carrying her out of the room. He would personally clean the mess later. At that moment, all he wanted to do was make sure he could make her feel as comfortable as possible.

Ephraim carried her down the hall on the search for an empty guest room.

Unfortunately, due to the wedding ceremony, every free room was filled with guests that were either already asleep or would be retiring shortly.

“Damnation,” he cursed under his breath as he padded the winding corridors completely luckless in his search.

Finally, he decided to take her to his bedroom.

He kicked open the door as quietly as he could and rushed her onto the bed. He laid her down softly, making sure to be extra careful with her head and neck as to not cause her any more discomfort.

Once her body met the moonlight-warmed sheets, she rolled over and smiled lightly against the silken fabric. She inhaled deeply, sounding much more relaxed than before.

As he turned to leave and give her privacy, the woman groggily grabbed his wrist and tugged him back. The prince snuck a look back at her and saw her half-lidded gaze alit in the darkness. Although her lips were still, her golden eyes somehow seemed to smile back at him.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Stunned for a moment, Ephraim was thankful for the dimness of the room for concealing the blush on his face. He nodded and reached out to smooth her hair dotingly. Although he didn’t want to stay long, he did want to stay until he safely saw her fall asleep.

He tried to focus on watching her relaxing features and calming breaths, but he couldn’t help but notice something else. In the starlight that came from the window overhead, the woman looked like an angel that would be painted on the roof of an elaborate palace or chapel.

A frown etched his face at the realization that she didn’t belong in his corporeal bedchamber.

It’s plainness, and his own plainness by default, paled in comparison to the gracious setting her beauty deserved.

In the morning, he’d candidly ask for her forgiveness for putting her in such a setting.

She deserved a glorious pedestal, not his private bed.

When her eyes finally fluttered shut and her breathing calmed, only then did her turn and leave the chamber.

* * *

 

Ephraim spent an hour or so cleaning the spilled cognac and broken glass. He also took time to dispose of the fragments accordingly. After that, he returned to the hall to assist with remaining the clean-up of the evening’s wedding festivities. Confetti had to be swept and leftover delicacies were saved in the castle’s kitchen area for later. Plates needed to be scrubbed and all the fresh lilies and hyacinths scattered about the banquet hall needed to find new homes in vases.

He also touched base with Dozla and the rest of L’Arachel’s party to let them know she was resting after the long event.

Oddly enough, nobody seemed at all fazed by the announcement. Ephraim created some last-minute accommodations for the small team in one of the castle’s many sitting rooms since all the bedrooms were occupied. Everyone was so thankful for the prince’s kindness that they didn’t remark about having to sleep on spare blankets and pillows the prince gathered from the palace’s extra linen closets.

The process ate up a couple more hours.

Whenever he had a spare moment, he checked on L’Arachel to make sure she hadn’t rolled off the bed or gotten sick in the middle of the night. Every time he peeked in, she was sleeping peacefully.

By the time dawn peeked over the horizon, he’d used a nearby washroom to clean his teeth and wash his face and hair. He still needed to shave, but that could wait for a few more hours. When people asked why he was still wearing his suit from the night before, he said it was because the festivities had kept him too busy to change. People mourned the prince’s efforts and told him to relax and get some sleep.

If only it was that easy.

The next time he returned to check on her, the sun was streaming through the windows over the bed. Dawn had officially broken hours before, but he’d been too busy to notice.

In his bed, he saw her sitting up and looking out the open window at the gardens below. She’d untied her hair and removed the bulkier parts of her outfit, now donned only in her dress.

He paused only for a moment to admire the sight before clearing his throat to make his presence known.

L’Arachel quickly looked over to meet his gaze.

He braced himself for the onslaught of verbal lashings and perhaps incoming projectile of any personal trinkets that might be within grabbing distance for her to hurl at him.

Nothing of the sort occurred.

In fact, there was only a second of silence before he noticed her inhale apprehensively. The sound was strident in the otherwise silent bedroom.

“Ah, hello Ephraim,” she said slowly. The woman spoke slowly and with a more hushed tone, as if she had a headache. Or perhaps she didn’t want anyone else to hear that she was in his bedroom.

Either way, he gently closed the door behind him to conceal them before slowly walking to the bedside to greet her.

“Are you awake?”

“Obviously,” she retorted in her typical, proud fashion. However, as soon as the word left her mouth, she seemed to bristle and avert her gaze. “I’m sorry. That was unnecessarily rude of me.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Ephraim said patiently. Her brash attitude hardly bothered him. What he cared more about was that she was feeling okay. “You were in pretty bad shape. Do you remember everything?”

L’Arachel moaned and scrubbed her aching forehead with the palm of her had. “I do, fortunately and unfortunately. My behavior was so undignified. I should have known better.”

The prince laughed a little bit in an attempt to lighten the mood. “Well, at least you remember everything. I was prepared for a well-deserved beating.”

She shot him a confused glance.

“Hm?” he asked, furrowing his pale brow. “A beating? You didn’t do anything wrong. Well, you did no more harm than I did. I should have known better, but alas, the offer was so tempting!”

Ephraim tried to muffle a laugh and failed.

“Really now?” he asked with an amused smirk.

“Quite so!” she replied, lifting a hand so that the back of her palm could raffishly sweep over her bangs. “Without your help, I’d be rolling in a carriage in agony toward home. At least I didn’t get drunk.”

Ephraim snapped his eyes back up and blinked his eyes gracelessly as he absorbed her words.

“Wait, you didn’t?” he asked in shock.

Last night’s event played repeatedly in his head as he tried to determine what alternative scenario could have possibly occurred.

“Then what happened?” he asked more loudly than before, more confused than anything else.

She shushed him and proceeded to explain.

“Well…I was already feeling faint from not eating all day,” she sighed, patting her stomach. “The trip from Rausten is long, you know. I wanted to badly to catch-up with everyone at the wedding that the evening just got away from me! I was so famished that anything would do. Even a neat cognac sounded refreshing at that point.”

In the middle of explaining, she suddenly paused and flashed him a vaguely annoyed glance. “Wait a moment. Did you think I got inebriated after a few sips of alcohol?”

“Well, it didn’t sound _implausible,_ ” Ephraim rushed to say in his meager defense. “Especially because of, you know, every reason you just described. I wasn’t going to judge.”

The exasperated sound she made was loud enough to wake the whole hall.

“Thankfully, dear Ephraim, I only drank enough to be severely uncomfortable,” she explained, rubbing her temples. “But me, intoxicated? Not at all. I resent the sentiment wholeheartedly! I remember everything and, upon waking this morning in your… _bed_ , I felt quite embarrassed by my behavior.”

He supposed that what she was saying was probably true. After all, who would know better than her if she was drunk or not? L’Arachel was many things, but she wasn’t irresponsible with her safety or well-being.

“Well, I suppose this was the ideal outcome,” Ephraim finally proposed. Before she could say anything, he held up his hand defensively and quickly added, “Well, it would have been better if none of this happened at all, but I’m just glad you’re okay.”

L’Arachel paused as something subtle changed in her expression. It was hard for the prince to pinpoint, but her visage appeared to be a delicate mixture of confusion and relief.

“Oh, well,” she stammered, lost for words. She cleared her throat quickly and said, “If that is your measure of success, then I suppose it’s true that things worked out well.”

The prince couldn’t resist chuckling at her stuffiness.

“I’m afraid the problem isn’t completely solved,” he said, standing up and offering her a hand. “You need food. It’s unacceptable that you haven’t eaten. I don’t like the idea of you going home famished.”

His words brought a slight blush to her cheeks, but it paled in comparison to her attractive smirk.

“Well, Lady L’Arachel is never one to deny an invitation!” she proudly said, her usual enthusiasm slowly returning as she got up and stretched. “Oh, I also need a change of clothes. If I walk out in this, people might form unsavory ideas.”

She had a good point. Especially following his sister’s wedding now was hardly the time or place to be stirring rumors.

“I’ll be right back with some food and water,” he said, nodding for her to stay in bed if she desired. “As for the clothes, I’ll try. If nothing else, we can dine together here and I’ll run out to the market and grab something.”

“Oh?” she asked curiously, her golden eyes lingering on his form in the doorway. “Are you requesting for my audience in your bed again?”

“As long as you accept my invitation,” he said tilting his head impishly at her suggestion. He couldn’t help but obviously tease her in return.

She sat back in the bed for a moment, staring upward in mock contemplation. After a few seconds of thoughtful humming, she finally conceded with a breathy sigh. “I suppose that will be fine. A nice brunch sounds lovely, even if this isn’t the way I wanted to spend my first time in your…”

His oceanic eyes widened at her unfinished sentence.

She stopped mid-sentence and snapped her mouth shut. “Ah, never mind! Go forth, my dear. Fetch us some food, but please, only water to drink.”

Ephraim was completely lost in thought for a few seconds. What had she been so close to saying? Was she about to say, _“Even if this wasn’t the way I wanted to spend my first time in your bed?”_

His face started to burn. No, that couldn’t be it. There was no way, he thought. She had to have been thinking of something else entirely. Perhaps he was just filling in the blanks based on his own wishful thinking.

“Um, right,” he fumbled, realizing the uncomfortable silence lengthening between them. “I’ll bring back some food right now.”

Damn, how many times had he made that promise during their morning meeting? It was hard for him to pull himself away from her presence and playful banter.

As he tripped over his words, she smiled back at him radiantly. Her usual confidence had returned, but there was something different about her expression. L’Arachel had pulled her knees up to her chest to prop up her elbows. Her fingers crossed beneath her chin as she titled her face at him coyly.

When he stared too long, she prompted him again by saying in singsong, “With haste, Ephraim.”

Before he could start away, L’Arachel lightly seized his wrist. For a moment, his brain flashed back to the night before when she had thanked him for helping her to bed. He pivoted his body slowly and she placed a small, hesitant kiss on his hand. Her lips only brushed the tops of his knuckles for a moment, but the touch felt like it lasted a century.

When she pulled away, she gave him a wink.

“Thank you again,” she admitted. “Although you may not look the part…you truly are a prince. The people of Renais are lucky to have you.”

The words lit something deep inside him. The fondness he already felt for her gave way to a deeper emotion in his heart. It was as if she’d lit a cozy, warm hearth within him. At that moment, he wanted almost nothing more than to drift closer to her and return the sentiment personally.

The only thing he longed for more was her utmost comfort. That meant he needed to get some fine food and ice water for them to enjoy together. He relished the thought of sitting next to her, sharing food and spending the morning chatting with her. 

“I’ll…be right back,” he muttered, turning sheepish for a moment while he struggled to find his next words. Ephraim was so nervous and excited at the same time that any sense of proper vocabulary seemed to vacate him mind in favor of boyish swooning.

When no fitting words came to mind, he settled on asking her, “Um…are pastries okay? For breakfast, I mean.”

She let out a glorious laugh.

“Surprise me!” she announced merrily. Then, she punctuated her command with a more softly muttered, “Oh, and hurry back, my love.”

Ephraim’s ribs softened at the sentiment.

_‘My love.’_

Not ‘my dear’ or ‘dear Ephraim.’ She’d referred to him as _her_ love.

“I believe…we have much to discuss,” she finished with a tilt of the head.

The prince nodded in agreement and dashed from the chambers in a hurry to grab the best food and drink he could find. Like she suggested, he made haste to return to his chamber as quickly as possible.

He knew they had a lot to discuss. There had been so much he’d wanted to tell her for so long, but the prince never knew where to begin.

Now, thanks to her kiss still burning on his knuckles, he felt like he finally knew what he wanted to say.

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was originally posted on Tumblr (romeo-and-antoinette) as a fic request for the prompt, "I immediately regret this."
> 
> This fic is also not sponsored by Grand Marnier (orange cognac.) However, I'm open to the possibility. 
> 
> Thank you guys so much for reading this fic all the way to the end! I'm sending lots of hugs and kisses to everyone who made it this far. I'm sure I'll be back with more Sacred Stones content. Maybe next time I'll write a fic where the main couple actually kisses, haha!


End file.
